On Guard

We have a ton of lambs outside. Mewling and bleating and skipping and gamboling. There is a game they play where they creep up to the sleeping guard dog. Closer and closer and closer until...one of the lambs dares to touch her and--

Rrrruff!

They scatter, the dog goes back to sleep, and five minutes later the lambs come creeping back.

Tundra is our guard dog, a beautiful Great Pyrenees whose gentle nature with the kids, the lambs, and our house dog is matched by a fierce and protective ferocity when coyotes come near. Seriously, we have seen her rip a coyote into shreds. Since we got her we have had zero kills among our little flock. And that's good news.

But I wonder sometimes, what she is really thinking? Protect the little helpless lambs?

Or Dinner?

Smug to Satisfied

At 9 pm last night I was standing in the kitchen with a glass of shiraz. Still in my heeled boots, grey skirt, and artfully draped scarf, I gazed out the window into the night feeling ever-so-slightly smug at the success of the historical presentation (on Richard III) I had delivered earlier in the evening.

There is something about living on a farm though that nips smugness in the bud very effectively.

At 9:12 last night, Andrew walked in the door after doing his nightly walk out to the barn to see that all was well, and in his arms he carried a lamb that had been injured.

By 9:15 last night, I had forgotten about the presentation and the glass of shiraz and was bedding down the lamb while Andrew gathered a syringe and painkiller. We spent the next half hour or so making the lamb comfortable while splinting what proved to be a broken foot.

This sort of thing is why all my clothes – even the good ones – are machine washable.

The dog was piqued. I had used her bed beside the fire for the lamb, and with a sniff of disgust she trotted into the living room with a look that clearly said “Fine, I’ll sleep on the couch then.”

But at the end of the night, as I finished my wine, and watched the lamb peacefully sleeping, it struck me that the public recognition I had got for my presentation was nothing compared to the private knowledge that we had made this tiny creature feel better. There was no guarantee – shock or infection might still kill him – but for the time being he was safe, and I was content.

Smartie figures it out!

Two years ago, the sheep reputed to be the smartest in our little flock, Smartie (not to be confused with Miss Maple, the smartest sheep in Glenkill - thanks Leonie Swan for an entertaining mystery novel) gave birth to two perfect lambs - Oliver and Rose. She ignored Oliver, and so we bought him into the house and fed him by hand. He was one of the family really, his little hooves trip trapping around the house, his favourite trick to leap into Andrew's arms. He only lived a few short weeks, but he sure was an endearing little guy.

Then last year Smartie had twin girls. Portia and Jessica. Who she completely ignored. We bought them into the house, fed them by hand and they thrived and are the healthiest yearlings in the barnyard now.

After that, Andrew threatened to turn Smartie into mutton if she didn't figure it out, (Erik in the middle of reading The Hobbit licked his lips saying, Mmm. Mutton - apparently this meal featured in his book and had quite an impact on him as he has never ever had mutton.)

So this year, when Smartie lambed - twins again - we were watching pretty carefully. But she couldn't be any more different. She looks for them, feeds them, bleats for them when they skip off, and is a model mother sheep. When I took this picture she had just finished stomping her hooves and was glaring at me with a steely glint in her eyes. Keep away from my lambs, she's saying.

Which makes us all very happy.

Lambs

It doesn't matter that it happens every year, or that we've seen it a hundred times, or that we'll have a bunch more before Spring is here...

It doesn't matter that it's minus 20 degrees celsius outside, and the wind is howling through the bare apple orchard...

It doesn't matter how bad times are, or how much of a rush you are in, or how late at night or early in the morning it is...

The first lambs have been born, and they always brings a sense of wonder and joy into the world. It's something you never tire of, and always have time to enjoy.

No matter what.